


Impassioned

by firstnoel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Anachronistic, Angels, M/M, Modern Era, Purple Prose, Romance, Sculpture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstnoel/pseuds/firstnoel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From that moment on he decided upon an ultimatum that he will bring this angel to life. It made him restless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impassioned

_“I saw the angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free.”_ Michaelangelo.

* * *

_The Angel before him_

_Consumed his entirety_

_Was it the right choice?_

* * *

 

**Dieci.**

Eleven months, three weeks, seventeen hours, thirteen minutes, twenty-seven seconds and counting. All from a vision of an angel.

A dark haired man stood in the midst of a small workshop, staring at the pure white marble before him. He breathed onto the surface of his creation as he envisioned the contours of the final sculpture. In the man's weathered hand rested a simple sculpting mallet. He once again began to pound relentlessly, with primal animalistic viciousness at the chisel set upon the marble. His movements bringing to life the memory in his mind.

His brown orbs, tinged with ferocity, focused even harder on the shape of the stone in front of him. A head of golden brown watched with concerned eyes as the man struck the marble with a tenacious glint in his eyes. Seemingly desperate to conjure up that image of perfection, the man never broke his concentration.

“Seungcheol, I really think you should rest. This is the second time this week that I found you passed out on the floor. How can you even continue working after that?" The smaller male perturbed, lips in a frown, an evident tint of concern in his voice.

As if noticing the other person for the first time, turned halfway to look at the imposing man. The dark circles under his eyes accentuated his ghostly pallor. The once healthy skin, that the pale man used to envy, vanished.

“Jihoon. I know, I’m sorry for worrying you, but I can't stop now. You can go home, please, I can take care of myself." He assur ed, waving the tall male off.

"But Seungch-" He tried to say.

“Jihoon. Please" The now deathly pale man cut him off. He looked directly into his friend's eyes as if to prove his point.  
Jihoon reluctantly nodded his head and took a deep breath.

"Just remember to take care. Promise me.” Jihoon reminded. He waited for Seungcheol to agree to his terms before he left his friend's studio.

**Nove.**

I can vaguely remember when Seungcheol suddenly began to bang on my door one winter morning, though the memory is now hazy in my mind. I opened my door to find him sweating profusely, his usual calm and collected personality seemed to be nowhere in sight.

“S-Seungcheol?… what are you doing up so early in the morning?" Jihoon drawled with his sleep-tinged voice. "What do you want?”

And then he told me, how it had appeared to him in a dream, a figure - hauntingly beautiful, radiant as the summer sun, with features of those you would find on the busts of the ancient divinity.

"-And I saw the angel! A face so breathtaking, so ethereal, and defined!" Seungcheol exclaimed. As his ravings trailed off, he had caught the uncertain expression I'd been making. I was concerned for him because he was not acting his usual self. A frown was then painted upon his lips.

“Jihoon, believe me! Listen. The angel whispered in my ear… The angel told me to set it free! I need to set the angel free!"

Utterly speechless I was. Seungcheol. Never had I ever even presumed I would live to see my friend, the epitome of discipline, in a frenzied state such as this.

**Otto.**

Each strike, every strategic chip off of the piece of marble before him brought the man closer to his dream. A sliver here, carving the beginning of a strong neck, a tiny flourish there, to create the small wisps of the angel's hair. For months he worked without break. He treated the sculpture with utmost care. Not once did his intense focus cause him to make even the smallest of mistakes. Nothing was in the way of setting his angel free.

"Umm... Seungcheol.” Jihoon interrupted the artisan's delicate work. "Are you sure you don't need a-" He wondered aloud as to why Seungcheol insisted on sculpting without a model.

He snapped back at Jihoon in a derisive tone, "I don’t.” as though he was a fool to not understand. "I told you many times, Jihoon, I already have my model."

The tiny fellow watched as the dark-haired artisan unleashed his potential, using techniques that is reminiscent of the historic greats. His face glowed with a rosy hue as he stared breathlessly at the wing he had unfolded with naught but his mind and his tools.

On that winter morning, so long ago, when Seungcheol told Jihoon about his dream, the ever-caring brunette found himself running to the quarry at the brink of dawn and purchasing a six-foot-slab of white marble. Whether it was from a sense of loyalty or from the morbid fascination of watching this quiet man's unassuming visage slowly crumble into insanity, Jihoon still didn't know why he had decided to help Seungcheol out in his seemingly hopeless endeavour. Ever since he had taken it upon himself to act as the vigilant sentry, Jihoon had found himself falling into the bottomless pit some called love.

Seungcheol had seen the angel in his dreams, and Jihoon hoped to the dear Lord that he would be able to set it free. Forever.

**Sette.**

"Don't you think you're over working yourself? You’ve become a slave to that rock. It's abnormal Seungcheol.” the older male admitted to a pair of inattentive ears.

Seungcheol, who was shaping the angel's soft-looking mouth, began to feel eyes sweeping over his form. He looked up from his work and met a pair of brown orbs gazing at him intently from where the observer sat across the room.

The sculptor wondered if he looked insane after all the countless nights of sleeplessness.

“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to drop by today," the older male frowned. Just moments later, a pair of arms encircled Seungcheol, he felt cheeks rubbing his hair, and the warmth of another being surged through his body.

“Thank you.” the dark haired man mumbled. A few minutes passed by and the smaller male emitted a low chuckle. Which had not gone unnoticed by the sitting form.

“Jihoon?" Seungcheol inquired as he raised his brows. Jihoon walked towards the marble and bent over to get a closer look.

"It's simple. Although you're working like a mad man. When you handle, no, look at that piece of rock-"

"It's not just a rock." The dark haired male interrupted.

 _Devotion. Tenderness. Adoration. Yearning. Affection._ The things Seungcheol put into his angel. Nothing was to be short of perfection.

**Sei.**

You could almost see the will surge within Seungcheol's heart, but Jihoon knew that the fire burning throughout his body was simply inspiration. The endless work was damaging, the boy's body began to weaken and slowed as if a blaze had scorched his flesh. Even then, he continued on with his ardent desire to set the angel free. The very thought of not having the sculpture being by his side made him restless and weary.

“It’s going well Seungcheol.” Jihoon assured the older. He draped himself over the small couch and proceeded to observe his best friend. He gazed down at the sculptor and saw a myriad of emotions manifest in his subtly expressive face.

 _A flicker of gold. Ah he must have not liked it._  
_A twitch of pink. He's pleased._  
_A quiver of ivory. He thought of something._

"Yes, thank you Jihoon.”

"You're welcome.” the brunette grinned.

Hours passed by and the older male sat there like a stagnant pool. Minute after minute, Jihoon's failed attempts at trying to start a conversation were piling up.

"Jihoon, if you're bored you can go home you know?" The sculptor suggested.

“I’ll be fine.” the brunette's lips said without warning.  
Another hour of silence ensued, and the sculptor continued to work relentlessly. And for a fleeting moment, a flutter of wings brushed his face. It seemed he didn't notice, too consumed in his work: drilling, pounding, brushing. Flourishing and marvelling. Snapping out of his daydream, Jihoon stood up and slipped into his coat.

"Um Seungcheol. I’ll be going now. I think I'm seeing things." Jihoon shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the 'visions' he thought he'd seen.

“Okay. Thank you for bringing food here Jihoon.” He offered over his shoulder. Jihoon smiled and took his leave.

‘He is going to make it.’ Jihoon thought as he walked down the street.

And not even time could be able to stop him.

**Cinque.**

Seungcheol's small but gentle hand swept voraciously across the smooth plane to rid the curved surface of the powdered dust that clung to it as he polished the marble feathers.

Quite surprised. Was what the young graduate felt when he took up the sight of the form of his angel. After excelling and mastering the difficult technicalities, Seungcheol slowly found himself thinking of the sculpture as a passing fancy of his. With ardor, he was delighted to finally unfold the wings he had slaved over for months on end, without a single model to reference from.

He peered at the face in front of his, smouldering eyes like embers in a fire stared back at him, slightly pursed lips, and hair carved in intricate waves that frames across his face. The marble almost bared an etheral and regal countenance in his eyes, a sentient being.

The impassioned gaze consumed him.

He leaned into the gentle caress as impeccable hands cupped his cheeks.

Saw stars when pristine ivory wings enclosed him into their embrace.

Lips curved into a smile, beaming harder as the angel broke into a chuckle at his actions.

He heard sweet nothings that made him swoon.

From that moment on he decided upon an ultimatum that he will bring this angel to life.

_It made him restless._

**Quattro.**

A week later Jihoon found himself by the sculptor's doorstep. As the brunette stepped inside, a loud thud resonated through the silent hall. His attention was caught and he quickly scanned his friend’s studio.

"What happened now?” Jihoon whined worriedly when he couldn't find the sight of his friend's mop of jet black hair.

At the bottom of the now completed sculpture lied the fatigued body of his best friend, weak from many months worth of exhaustion. The small male rushed to his side, and struggles to carry the fainted man to the plush sofa and set him down.

‘He's so light. When was the last time he ate a proper meal.’ Jihoon wondered with fear. He quickly checked his pulse to make sure Seungcheol was still alive. Thankfully he could feel Seungcheol's heart beating, and although it was faint he sighed with great relief.

The pale man carefully brushed a dark lock away from the sculptor’s sleeping face, and pressed cold towel on his forehead.

  
"You always make everyone worry. Sleep well.” Jihoon sighed.

**Tre.**

"Seungcheol." His name was the last thing he could make out from the being before he succumbed into sleep, losing all consciousness. The angel's soft loving gaze looked down at him. He saw the angel look at something across the room, before they tenderly locked lips.

When he'd finally regained consciousness, he saw Jihoon's worry-filled gaze as the man studied his face. His legs were burning, his back was stiff and ached with the pain of a thousand hells. Every tissue in his body felt strained as he painstakingly tried to haul his body up to meet the brunette's stare before looking behind him.

His breath caught when he saw his creation. At least what was left of it.

Like the stills of a camera shutter, flashes of memory seeped through his mind. No matter how hard he tried to remember the events before he fainted from stress and fatigue, the only thing he could recall was when the marble statue glimmered as a ray of light twinkled from the crown to the tip of its toes shining out from its cracks.

It was breaking apart, and he had begun to panic. He remembered the dull ache that consumed his entire being as he watched the last stump of the angel turn into dust right before his eyes.

"The ange-" he spluttered, as he desperately urged his muscles to support his lithe frame, but ended up collapsing into his friend's arms. Seungcheol's silent sobs racked through his body as Jihoon tried to console him.

Eyes; nose; lips; hair; neck; shoulders; the wings: all gone. They had disintegrated, falling to the floor in a heap. _And then his angel flew away._

**Due.**

When the fainted sculptor woke up he feverishly told Jihoon of everything that had taken place in the few days that he had been gone. What had happened to his angel.

“Hey. do you need help sitting up?" Jihoon implored. He watched his friend with worry as he made the effort to sit up, hearing the tendons and bones crack.

Seungcheol winced as the full effect of his relentless chipping seemed to finally come down on him with a brutal swiftness. Feeling terrible, he stumbled back onto the sofa, pain etched on his face. His teeth clenched tightly together as Jihoon helped him painstakingly haul his body upright.

Jihoon glanced at him when he began to speak again, a broken, melancholic whisper.

"I-It's gone. It's gone… It's gone. How could this happen, Jihoon? I worked so hard to see that face one more time!” the heartbroken male choked over his words, an array of diverse emotions  
displayed on his face - from agony, to worry, disdain, desperation and a remorseful, muted surrender.

He then told the small male what happened that night. How when he had, at long last, finished the statue it'd glimmered with a ray of light. It had glowed from the crown of the statue, out of what must have been cracks, to the point where the marble met the floor. Next thing he knew, it began to break apart. He described his panic as he stumbled over, watching the marble statue he had worked so hard to create crumble into dust, the features of the face gone in an instant.

"The angel is gone, Jihoon, they flew. It's gone..." He murmured, staring across the studio. "Flew, far away from my grasp."

**Uno.**

The pale man stayed by Seungcheol's side that night, consoling him for the devastating loss. The sculptor’s fever eventually went down, a rosy hue painted on the ivory cheeks, and his rapid breathing calmed.

"Thank you Jihoon." He mumbled, a distant look still in his eyes. The smaller male nodded his head and went downstairs to get some rest.

When Jihoon stepped out of the room he went to the kitchen. There were tiny little orange and maroon shadows, popping up all around the kitchen, which were the only sources of light that illuminated the chamber. Immediately he dialled up a familiar number, the brunette paced back and forth around the kitchen's island. Finally, on the last ring, a familiar voice broke through in an annoyed growl.

"Jihoon. This better be good. Its 2am in the morning, not even animals are awake at this time." answered the person on the end of the line.

“Hey Mingyu, don’t talk to your friend like that. Will he be okay?" The brunette asked worriedly. A few seconds of silence passed and a small sigh came through.

"Yes, he will be, as long as he is hydrated, doesn't skip meals, and remembers to take his medicine. He will be fine, as long as you're there to take care of him." Mingyu assured.

A tired smile appeared on the pale man’s face as he listened.

"Thanks." the brunette replied.

"And Jihoon?" he asked.

The brunette replied with a quiet "Hmm?"

"Take care of yourself too." Mingyu grinned over the line, with a cheeky tone.

A slight grin immediately replaced the solemn smile on the brunette as he set off to ease his friend's mind.

"You're really nice aren't you? He'll be fine! If only you'd stop pretending to be such a grouch we could be the best of friends right now!" Mingyu teased.

"Shut up. Bye" The man hissed.

"Bye~" The male on the other line cooed.

Exhausted, the brunette fell back onto one of Seungcheol's armchairs. Finally relinquishing his hold on reality, and lapsing into the gentle lull of peaceful sleep.

‘I still can't understand what's going on in his mind.’ Jihoon thought.

_‘It’s gone… It's gone. . .It’s gone. Jihoon it’s gone.’_

After all, the marble statue still stood there, in the corner of the studio, gazing at Seungcheol with its life-like, marble eyes.

**Gioire.**

Seungcheol glanced up from his third cup of coffee, nodding absentmindedly as Jihoon had fervently hammered him with reasons as to why he should stop mulling around. The brunette stressed the fact that the sculptor needed to get out and enjoy the breeze more often.

“You were never like this.” Jihoon preached.

He nodded mechanically, humming his indistinct answer quietly. The taller's gaze was still distant, and Jihoon knew why. He was the last person that needed a talk on that topic.

_Re:Due_

_Just before Seungcheol fell unconscious for the second time that day, many months ago. Jihoon followed his line of sight, his breath hitched as he stared his friend’s creation._

_Simply calling it beautiful would not do the statue proper justice. The carefully carved, smooth, yet angular jawline, prominent cheekbones, high nose bridge, delicate lips and deep set, almond-shaped eyes in perfect symmetry with the rest of him. Details of the divine being sculpted with the most minute of details. Unparalleled beauty of whose radiance outshone the stars._

_‘So this was the angel.’ Jihoon thought._

_Simply Breathtaking._

“Quite the sanctimonious person are you?” Seungcheol teased his tiny friend, as he grinned for the first time in months. This snapped Jihoon from his trance, and turned to the sculptor with a cat-like scowl on his lips.

The brunette clicked his tongue and kicked the taller. Once again the table was filled with silence. Jihoon sighed out of frustration and leaned back, looking out onto the veranda and into the busy street of the cafe they sat in.

It was raining, dark, and dreary. A slosh of wet boots and a question snapped both of the males out of their trances. Jihoon, whose back was to the stranger, turned to the sound and balked.

‘No way.’Jihoon screamed in his mind. ‘I don’t even believe in this kind of crap.’

"May I sit beside you?" A soft voice asked Seungcheol, luxurious and refined. The said sculptor stiffened when he turned and saw the immaculate being before him. The blonde long-haired stranger chuckled, a light and beautiful thing. His brown be-speckled almond-shaped eyes shined with playfulness, and his thin, pouted rosen lips twisted into the slightest of smiles.

“I’m sorry-" the stranger began.

"Angel?!" Jihoon exclaimed loudly, cutting the person off. Standing up as he pointed an accusing finger at the intruder, then he demanded an explanation of when and where he had come from.

“Oh.” The blonde male winked at the brunette before smiling coquettishly to the frozen sculptor across from the said man.

Jihoon's eye twitched. A scowl formed on his lips. Jihoon turned to his friend and felt his eyes widen. A bright red flush powdered itself on Seungcheol's cheeks. He bit his lips as his haze slid down to his fingers, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

The pale dark-haired male lifted his chin up, only to immediately look back down upon meeting the beautiful stranger's watchful eyes.

Upon seeing his friend's reaction, the smaller male tilted his head back and chortled uncharacteristically. Seungcheol and Mr. Angel turned to look at the laughing brunette. He shook his head, stood up, and walked away from the couple into the rain.

“Jihoon! Where are you going?” Seungcheol exclaimed. The brunette rose his hand and waved. A puff of air made its way out of the sculptor's pouted lips. He looked confused and uncertain but his eyes shone with excitement.

Jihoon turned around and felt a flutter of wings brush across the back of his hand. His face lit up with a smile as he passed by Mr. Angel, purposefully bumping shoulders with him.

"Take care of him." the brunette warned.

A subtle smirk and a slight glance towards Jihoon, "Of course." the blonde stranger replied. Turning towards the embarrassed sculptor.

“Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan."

The brunette could hear as Seungcheol tried to introduce himself without stuttering. "H-Hello! My name is Seungcheol and I work as a freelance artist!"

Jihoon imagined his face, cheeks tinted with a rosy blush and eyes filled with awe.

 _"I know._ " the voice of the of the stranger said.

 

* * *

**_-Fin._ **

* * *

 

Extra:

After just a couple of weeks into their newly formed relationship, the couple immediately hit it off. They were nearly inseparable. The pair would visit the library together, take long walks, visit galleries, try out new forms of cuisines, you name it.

Unsurprisingly, Jeonghan would often offer to model for the sculptor when he was running out of inspiration and needed a muse. And he never failed to tease the dark haired male about it.

"You could always use me." The blonde suggested.

"Jeong-" Seungcheol started.

"Well I guess, it wouldn't be fair would it? After all you've already mapped and committed every part of my body to memory." Jeonghan teased. A warm flush immediately bloomed on the sculptor's hitherto porcelain cheeks.

"You sly little fuck." The embarrassed sculptor mumbled in vexation.

Consumed with vexation, the sculptor, roughly hammered down onto his new marble sculpture. Not even noticing the inconspicuous cracks that were threatening to break the marble into pieces.

In the midst of his silent fury, he did not detect a figure creeping up behind him until a soft delicate hand grasped his own and squeezed gently. A hushed voice tingled in his ear.

"Seungcheollie. You should treat this piece gently, with love and affection. Just like how you did to me.” The lithe male cooed.

The flushed man turned sanguine and bit his lip. "Shut up."

A chuckle broke the intimate tension and a gentle kiss found its way onto the sculptor's lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I once read a YunJae fanfic with the same plot years ago by a very talented author. I scrolled endlessly through my thousands of YJ bookmarks and subscriptions in my other account to find it again but couldn’t. However, at the moment, I tried my best and simply wanted to write and recreate the magic of the original story, by memory, written by one of many authors I admired greatly. Although in purple prose and my own tone - a case of a fanfic of a fanfic?
> 
> If this is to be interpreted as plagiarism (word for word), or if anyone is offended, I’ll take responsibility and take this down, and personally apologize to the author if someone knows of the story I referred to and can direct me to them.


End file.
